Constant Vigilance
by Bowles
Summary: As he passes through the veil, Sirius Black reflects on those he left behind and experiences transcendence for the first time.


This is a response to a challenge by melihobbit over at the forums of HPFF. I'm going to be posting it there, too, on the same author name if it'll work, and another HP one-shot is in the development/writing stages, also. Let me tell everyone who reads my stuff regularly this: it's out there as far as my usual works go, and I love it so far. Hopefully you will, too, and I'm going to try to get it up this weekend.

To all you _A Game of Chess_ readers out there: this won't affect the posting of the next chapter. To be honest, I haven't even started on Chapter 14 yet, but I know how it's going to turn out, and I have a free weekend.

Without further ado...

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world ain't mine. Don't sue.

**Constant Vigilance**

"**tran·scen·dence, _n_: a state of being or existence above and beyond the limits of material experience" **

The darkness was smothering like a blanket tied around his head. Sirius couldn't remember the last time he had felt this alone, this weak, this helpless, and he supposed he never had. After all, he couldn't remember a time he had been hit like that, either. Bellatrix had gotten in a good lick on him.

He struggled to rise to his feet, but he couldn't. He needed to get up, to go fight her once more… to help Harry… Harry needed his help…

The scene of only seconds before played over in his mind.

"_Nice one!"_

He had been yelling to Harry about something, about constraining Dolohov when – there had been a flash, some sort of flash – and Tonks fell. He remembered this, and Bellatrix's triumphant sneer as she ran down the stone steps and back into the middle of the battlefield.

"_Harry, take the prophecy, grab Neville, and run!"_

He, Sirius, had gone to continue Tonks's battle with Bellatrix. They had been fighting, just like they had back when they were kids, only this time, it wasn't over some stupid materialistic object. It was a fight to the death. Kill or be killed.

"_DUBBLEDORE!"_

What had happened? Neville had screamed something, but he and Bellatrix had been too consumed in their duel that he hadn't even noticed it. She had sent a thick beam of scarlet right at him and he had ducked, and even gone so far as to taunt her.

"_Come on, you can do better than that!"_

Of course, the second beam took the laughter right out of him.

Sirius could recall the falling perfectly; it had taken ages. It seemed he would never come down, that he would never hit the ground, when suddenly his blood ran cold, as if he had been dipped in icy water. He couldn't breathe, and he had been suffocating… What had happened then?

Now he remembered. He had hit the ground.

He had fallen to Bellatrix, he had fallen to Voldemort. He had let Dumbledore down, he had let the Order down, he had let Remus and James and everyone down. Worst of all, he had let Harry down.

The great Padfoot had lost.

How could he have been defeated? He had always been an excellent dueler, a real master at the art of battling. He had lived through the First War, something that many wizards and witches had not done. He had survived the hell of Azkaban, and found his godson. Sirius was a survivor.

But now, he was a soldier, fallen in battle.

He had to get up. He couldn't just leave Harry there. Who knows what could have happened? Harry could have been injured, or captured, or caught off-guard and –

His mind stopped reeling as it all added up. Sirius couldn't help Harry anymore. He couldn't help anybody.

Sirius Black was dead.

He had left Harry behind, and Remus, too. Remus… last of the true Marauders, and a damn good friend, too. It had been hard for him, this Sirius knew, with being a werewolf and losing one of his best friends only a few years after they had graduated from Hogwarts. And Remus had been particularly close to Lily as well. Sirius knew how hard he had taken her death. She had understood him, a feat not many others could have claimed they had accomplished. Everyone had taken Lily and James's deaths hard, but for the already fragile Remus, it had been a crippling blow, one last jab at his broken soul.

Now, Sirius was leaving him, too. What a twist of fate.

And Harry… Harry needed guidance. He needed someone who was on his side. Dumbledore was a fine mentor, and Ron and Hermione were wonderful friends, but he needed a mixture of both, someone that knew the ropes and could comfort him during difficult times. So much for that. So much for everything.

In the midst of his thoughts, there was a tapping, something pulsing in his skull. He groaned. _Go away_, he thought, _and leave me to rest in peace._

The tapping did not go away.

Sirius did not know what to do now. He was dead, and worse, he had left his allies, the very ones who had fought beside him, behind to deal with the aftershocks of his death.

_Tap, tap, tap_.

It did make strange sense, he supposed. His life had been cursed, after all, so why would his afterlife be any different? He would never have solitude. He would never have salvation. This was just his fate. "Constant vigilance," Moody had said. Well, Sirius had let his guard down, and this was his punishment.

_Tap, tap, tap_.

"Go away!" Sirius exclaimed angrily, and in the wake of his fury, his eyes snapped open without warning. At first, he squinted. Then, he took in what he saw with pure ecstasy.

The tapping stopped, and Sirius smiled a true smile, something he had thought he would never see again. It was a weak, tired smile, but a smile all the same. Salvation at last.

"Prongs... it's good to see you again, old boy."


End file.
